What Will I Do?
by OrangeRamen96
Summary: A story... that is sexual... between Pewds and cry. I can't write summaries to save my life! There will only be three chapters... possibly an epilogue if I feel like writing it in the future. See my profile for disclaimers! Please Review! It's what makes me want to write ! :)
1. Chapter 1

Cry looked around the modest Swedish apartment. It wasn't too over the top, yet it wasn't crawling with roaches, either. It was nice, and it had a homey feel. Cry was mailed the plane ticket, address, and silver key. There was also a note telling him when the Swede that was currently renting the comfortable condo would be home.

It had been two years since Marzia and Pewdie got married, and at the time of their marriage, the masked man couldn't be happier for his best friend. About a few months down the line, though, Cry just wasn't feeling right. There was this sweet feeling in his heart, that grew stronger every time he even heard he blond's name, and this livid emotion in his heart every time he heard Marzia's name.

Cry wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what the feelings were, but just shook them off anyways. For a while, it got better. He could talk to both of his foreign friends without any prominent strange feelings, but one day, it came back at full swing. He was looking at some fan art that a few of his subscribers had linked to him, and found one that gave him this explainable feeling of absolute rage.

There, on his desktop, was a fan-drawn picture of Marzia, with her arms wrapped loosely around Pewdie, who was holding a bundle of blankets with a small baby's head sticking out of the top. Cry's rage turned quickly into depression, and he was in his bed for an entire week, feeling the soft liquid of his watery tears roll effortlessly down his cheeks, as silent sobs racked through his entire body.

After that week, the feelings grew immensely worse. He started watching Pewdie non-stop, and started feeling this horrible, absolute hatred towards Marzia. The feelings made his depression grow worse, because of the guilt. Here he was, possibly falling in love with his best friend, who was happily married, while despising a girl who had been nothing but sweet and kind to him the entire time he'd known her. And yet, throughout knowing all of those things, the feelings never went away. In fact, they just grew all the more stronger. Though there was one day that permanently changed everything. The one day where he took his slightly obsessive crush and turned it into a stalking love.

Cry had recorded several "Fridays With Pewdiepie" and put them all together to form one long clip. He laid down, in his bed and put on the headset, pressing play, and began to listen to the Swedish man's voice flow into his ears. The sound turned him on instantly, and before he knew it, scenarios filled his mind of Pewdie and himself doing the most intimate acts.

Cry's chest rose and fell heavily as the idea of Pewdie coming into his room filled his mind. The Swede came up at the foot of the bed and started crawling on the mattress towards Cry. Then, when he reached the masked male's pants, he slowly pulled them down, along with his boxers.

The daydream felt so real to Cry, as he imagined Pewdie licking his length slowly, driving him wild. The panting grew heavier, and he started making small, quiet noises of pleasure. It wasn't long until the administrations that Cry imagined Pewds doing to him made him ejaculate white streams of pure pleasure that dampened the inside of his boxers and jeans.

From that time onward, Cry had been using every opportunity he could to think of the Swede ravishing him. And now that Cry was in Pewdie's living space, he could smell the sweaty smell from the work out area, the smell of his shampoo from the bathroom, and finally the delicious smell of the cologne that the blond used from his bedroom. There was a king-sized bed that he slowly made his way over to. Cry almost wanted to fuck the sheets because the aroma turned him on to the point where he was panting, and his fingers were slightly twitching.

The digital clock beside the bed informed the brunette that he had a little more than an hour before Pewdie got home, and because of that, he just couldn't resist jumping up on the bed, feeling the material, smelling the aromas, and slightly moaning as he almost felt like Pewdie was right next to him. Cry laid on his back and spread out his limbs, still panting heavily ad his erection bulged against the cotton confines of his clothes. The American unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down slightly, groaning at the way the air in the room felt on him.

Looking to the bed-side table, Cry picked up the bottle of lotion every man keeps beside his bed as soon as he turns 13. He squirted some of the white, creamy liquid onto his hand, and started rubbing it between his two palms, knowing better than to just put the lotion on himself and feel the freezing sting. After a couple of minutes, Cry slowly placed a hand on his length, groaning at the feel, and started moving his hand and arm up and down, imagining a certain blond's mouth on him, moving up and down.

The panting grew stronger, and Cry started also letting out moans of pleasure, and simple words of encouragement to no one. Or, at least he thought no one was there, as he was unaware of the blond who had gotten off work early and come straight home, excited to see his friend.

Although the sight that met him was far from expected, as Pewdie gazed upon his brunette friend rubbing up and down his rather large cock, and arching off his mattress a little. Pewds had to admit, the sight did turn him on a bit, and although he did once have a slight crush on his friend, he got over it to marry the woman of his dreams. Never would he have ever expected the scene before him. He almost felt as if he'd been transported into a fan fiction of some sort.

The blond heard his name being groaned from his masked friend as he watched the white liquids shoot slightly out of the American's length onto the towel than he had left on his bed from showering that morning. After the brunette finished - literally - Pewdie watched as he came down from his orgasmic high and sat up, lifting the clothing up, not noticing Pewds until he spoke.

"Uh... Cry? Did you really just... masturbate to my smell... on my bed?" Pewdie was almost afraid to ask the question, for he was nervous about it being in his imagination, or him being asleep at his job, and saying that out loud while he was unaware. Although, apparently it was real, because no one shook him awake, and Cry froze in his spot.

The American turned around quickly after freezing for a few seconds and looked at the Swede. He was horrified and terrified at the same time. Was was he going to say? 'Oh, yeah, I just came to the though of your mouth on my dick sucking me off, even though your married and we're just friends. How was your day?' He couldn't just say that, but he had to say something, as he opened his mouth, thinking of the explanations, the reasons, the words, but they all flew out of his mind as his voice started to leak out of his mouth and his lips formed into a simple word, and he answered with the explanation of, "Yes".

Pewdie was shocked as he heard only that one word, and actually waited about a minute more for a more understandable explanation, but received none. He was wondering what to do. How could their relationship never stay the same after this? How could he ever look at his friend again? Were they even still on a friend level? "Cry... I..."

"No. Pewds, please don't say anything. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, and I know that you're going to reject me and that's fine," Cry felt the wetness start concentrating around his eyes as he heard his own lies slip out of his mouth. He wasn't sorry, He wanted Pewdie. And it certainly wouldn't be fine if Pewds rejected him. "But please, don't stop being my friend over this."

Pewdie felt like he was backed into a corner, he had no idea what to do or say. He, on one hand didn't want to let go of his friend, but on the other, he knew that this would only continue if he didn't let go of his friend... at least for a little while. "Cry... I'm sorry, but... I just... I don't know what to do. But I know one thing for sure..."


	2. Chapter 2

Cry looked around the modest Swedish apartment. It wasn't too over the top, yet it wasn't crawling with roaches, either. It was nice, and it had a homey feel. Cry was mailed the plane ticket, address, and silver key. There was also a note telling him when the Swede that was currently renting the comfortable condo would be home.

It had been two years since Marzia and Pewdie got married, and at the time of their marriage, the masked man couldn't be happier for his best friend. About a few months down the line, though, Cry just wasn't feeling right. There was this sweet feeling in his heart, that grew stronger every time he even heard he blond's name, and this livid emotion in his heart every time he heard Marzia's name.

Cry wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what the feelings were, but just shook them off anyways. For a while, it got better. He could talk to both of his foreign friends without any prominent strange feelings, but one day, it came back at full swing. He was looking at some fan art that a few of his subscribers had linked to him, and found one that gave him this explainable feeling of absolute rage.

There, on his desktop, was a fan-drawn picture of Marzia, with her arms wrapped loosely around Pewdie, who was holding a bundle of blankets with a small baby's head sticking out of the top. Cry's rage turned quickly into depression, and he was in his bed for an entire week, feeling the soft liquid of his watery tears roll effortlessly down his cheeks, as silent sobs racked through his entire body.

After that week, the feelings grew immensely worse. He started watching Pewdie non-stop, and started feeling this horrible, absolute hatred towards Marzia. The feelings made his depression grow worse, because of the guilt. Here he was, possibly falling in love with his best friend, who was happily married, while despising a girl who had been nothing but sweet and kind to him the entire time he'd known her. And yet, throughout knowing all of those things, the feelings never went away. In fact, they just grew all the more stronger. Though there was one day that permanently changed everything. The one day where he took his slightly obsessive crush and turned it into a stalking love.

Cry had recorded several "Fridays With Pewdiepie" and put them all together to form one long clip. He laid down, in his bed and put on the headset, pressing play, and began to listen to the Swedish man's voice flow into his ears. The sound turned him on instantly, and before he knew it, scenarios filled his mind of Pewdie and himself doing the most intimate acts.

Cry's chest rose and fell heavily as the idea of Pewdie coming into his room filled his mind. The Swede came up at the foot of the bed and started crawling on the mattress towards Cry. Then, when he reached the masked male's pants, he slowly pulled them down, along with his boxers.

The daydream felt so real to Cry, as he imagined Pewdie licking his length slowly, driving him wild. The panting grew heavier, and he started making small, quiet noises of pleasure. It wasn't long until the administrations that Cry imagined Pewds doing to him made him ejaculate white streams of pure pleasure that dampened the inside of his boxers and jeans.

From that time onward, Cry had been using every opportunity he could to think of the Swede ravishing him. And now that Cry was in Pewdie's living space, he could smell the sweaty smell from the work out area, the smell of his shampoo from the bathroom, and finally the delicious smell of the cologne that the blond used from his bedroom. There was a king-sized bed that he slowly made his way over to. Cry almost wanted to fuck the sheets because the aroma turned him on to the point where he was panting, and his fingers were slightly twitching.

The digital clock beside the bed informed the brunette that he had a little more than an hour before Pewdie got home, and because of that, he just couldn't resist jumping up on the bed, feeling the material, smelling the aromas, and slightly moaning as he almost felt like Pewdie was right next to him. Cry laid on his back and spread out his limbs, still panting heavily ad his erection bulged against the cotton confines of his clothes. The American unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down slightly, groaning at the way the air in the room felt on him.

Looking to the bed-side table, Cry picked up the bottle of lotion every man keeps beside his bed as soon as he turns 13. He squirted some of the white, creamy liquid onto his hand, and started rubbing it between his two palms, knowing better than to just put the lotion on himself and feel the freezing sting. After a couple of minutes, Cry slowly placed a hand on his length, groaning at the feel, and started moving his hand and arm up and down, imagining a certain blond's mouth on him, moving up and down.

The panting grew stronger, and Cry started also letting out moans of pleasure, and simple words of encouragement to no one. Or, at least he thought no one was there, as he was unaware of the blond who had gotten off work early and come straight home, excited to see his friend.

Although the sight that met him was far from expected, as Pewdie gazed upon his brunette friend rubbing up and down his rather large cock, and arching off his mattress a little. Pewds had to admit, the sight did turn him on a bit, and although he did once have a slight crush on his friend, he got over it to marry the woman of his dreams. Never would he have ever expected the scene before him. He almost felt as if he'd been transported into a fan fiction of some sort.

The blond heard his name being groaned from his masked friend as he watched the white liquids shoot slightly out of the American's length onto the towel than he had left on his bed from showering that morning. After the brunette finished - literally - Pewdie watched as he came down from his orgasmic high and sat up, lifting the clothing up, not noticing Pewds until he spoke.

"Uh... Cry? Did you really just... masturbate to my smell... on my bed?" Pewdie was almost afraid to ask the question, for he was nervous about it being in his imagination, or him being asleep at his job, and saying that out loud while he was unaware. Although, apparently it was real, because no one shook him awake, and Cry froze in his spot.

The American turned around quickly after freezing for a few seconds and looked at the Swede. He was horrified and terrified at the same time. Was was he going to say? 'Oh, yeah, I just came to the though of your mouth on my dick sucking me off, even though your married and we're just friends. How was your day?' He couldn't just say that, but he had to say something, as he opened his mouth, thinking of the explanations, the reasons, the words, but they all flew out of his mind as his voice started to leak out of his mouth and his lips formed into a simple word, and he answered with the explanation of, "Yes".

Pewdie was shocked as he heard only that one word, and actually waited about a minute more for a more understandable explanation, but received none. He was wondering what to do. How could their relationship never stay the same after this? How could he ever look at his friend again? Were they even still on a friend level? "Cry... I..."

"No. Pewds, please don't say anything. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, and I know that you're going to reject me and that's fine," Cry felt the wetness start concentrating around his eyes as he heard his own lies slip out of his mouth. He wasn't sorry, He wanted Pewdie. And it certainly wouldn't be fine if Pewds rejected him. "But please, don't stop being my friend over this."

Pewdie felt like he was backed into a corner, he had no idea what to do or say. He, on one hand didn't want to let go of his friend, but on the other, he knew that this would only continue if he didn't let go of his friend... at least for a little while. "Cry... I'm sorry, but... I just... I don't know what to do. But I know one thing for sure..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Noodles! Attention: Before you start freaking out and thinking that I hate Marzia, just remember that this is called fanFICTION for a reason! I love the Cutiepie/Pewdiepie couple! They are the cutest couple ever! So please, don't hate me for making Marzia a total bitch in this!**

**Gracias, Noodles! :D**

**~OR96**

* * *

Pewdie, again, felt torn. He knew Cry was in a critical condition, but so was Marzia, and she was his wife. The blond knew that if he didn't go to Italy that night, Marzia would not forgive him. Her father was always very close to her, and this loss had her in the worst place she'd been in for years. "Mari... Cry's still in a critical state, and so are you, so I'll..." the blond stopped himself, thinking seriously about the situation.

On one hand, he loved Marzia. She was the sweetest girl he'd ever met, and deserved all of his attention. Especially since she actually married his sorry ass, when all he really ever did was play games. She was an amazing woman, but she didn't forgive easily, and since he promised that he would be there for her in any family situation, he knew that there would be no bouncing back from this.

Cry, on the other hand needed his help. Probably more than Marzia, since she had her entire family there with her in Italy. He obviously had been going through something horrible if it caused him to try to kill himself. Pewdie didn't want to admit it to himself, but ever since he'd seen Cry masturbating on his bed, moaning out the Swede's name, he just hadn't felt the same about his masked friend.

Actually, he recently had caught himself when he was alleviating the sexual tension that has risen in his body, since Marzia was in Italy, and unable to do it for him. He fell back on the sheets, panting a bit, already excited for what was to come, no pun intended. As he slowly unzipped the denim jeans, he unbuttoned the button at the top. Then, he slowly slid his pants down his legs, along with his boxers, and grabbed a hold of his already fully hard length. Images of Marzia's smooth body raced through his mind. He pictured himself gripping her breasts firmly, rubbing his fingers over the nipples, and hearing the succulent moans that leaked from her open mouth. The blond could think of many things he'd like to do with that mouth. His breath started getting shaky. Then, for some reason, he started focusing on her hair, finding it a weirdly major turn-on. He imagined it slowly growing shorter, and her brown eyes turning brighter and brighter, and eventually becoming pure white, along with the rest of her face. Suddenly, she was wearing a white poker face mask and her breasts grew flat. Soon, it was Cry that he was mentally imagining, and it was Cry's sides that his hands were sliding upon. He had finished with a strangled shout of the name "Cry~".

Pewdie sighed into the phone. Did he really love Marzia? Did he only lust for Cry? When he tried to think of what he loved about the Italian, he could only think of her plump breasts and her curvy torso, along with her tight, wet core. Although, when he thought of Cry, he thought of the strong, ballsy man who always had something to say that brightened his day. He thought of the man who had been there every time he had a fight with Marzia. The man who comforted him and whose life was slowly draining away in the bed right in front of him.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't leave Cry like this. I know you'll never forgive me, but I need to be here for him," Pewdie said into the phone. He heard a slight whimper on the other end that pulled at his heartstrings, but he held strong. The thought of Cry waking up here and thinking that Pewds had abandoned him was just... heart-wrenchingly horrible.

All of a sudden, shouting ensued from the speaker. "Fine, then! Fuck you, Felix! I hope you and Cry never last!" Marzia's words shocked Pewdie more than anything that had happened in the last few days. How in the world had he dated such a heartless bitch?! "Oh, and I've been seeing Ian these last three months. He's better that you have ever been, you asshole!"

The dial tone was all Pewdie heard. His shock was greater than it had been when he found Cry passed out in his house. Pewdie just sighed and put his phone away. He stayed by Cry's side for the next few days until the brunette woke up.

* * *

Cry opened his eyes, before looking around. The first thing he noticed was the fact that everything was so white and sterile-looking... all except for the blond man sitting beside his bed. He wondered how long he'd been out. Probably only for a few hours, because he knew that Marzia would drag Pewdie back to Italy if he stayed there for any longer than about a day or so. The masked individual sighed deeply, and then looked at all the technology around him.

Pewdie was roused by the sound of the EKG speeding up. He looked at Cry's bed to see the brunette man looking around. At fist, he thought it was just a vivid dream, until he moved. Everything felt real, sounded real... it was real. "C-Cry?" Pewdie asked, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep and nutrition, since he'd been too worried about Cry to really sleep or eat like he should.

Said individual looked up to see the Swede staring at him with disbelieving eyes. "Hey, Pewds," the American said, and then noticed how weak he felt and how weird the blond's voice sounded. "Hey, friend, how long have I been sleeping?" Cry asked, feeling slight hope, along with deep confusion seeping into him.

Pewdie smiled sadly, replying with "Five and a half days, mi amigo," before chuckling at the spanish. Then, He had this extremely sad look in his eyes, for just a second before he shook it off, and looked back at Cry. "How are you feeling? I hope those pills didn't do too much damage to your body or mind," he said, concerned.

Cry, completely shocked with the amount of time that Pewdie replied with, answered the question with, "I'm feeling a bit weak, but other than that, I'm just fine. But... five and a half days, friend? Did you visit Italy whilst I was sleeping?"

Pewdie smiled again, with a sad cover color tinting his eyes. He sighed deeply for what had to be the third time in less than 24 hours. "Yeah, bro... Marzia, she... um... she broke it off with me," the Swede said, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. "Her father... he passed away, but instead of going to comfort her, I... I stayed here to comfort you." Pewdie looked at Cry with gleaming eyes, feeling more tears well up in place of the ones who had already fallen. "Because, well, because I love you, Cry. And... I didn't realize how much I loved and needed you... until I saw your life slipping through my fingers."

Pewdie lowered his head and sobbed a bit, feeling a great relief fall over him as he shook, with quiet sobs racking his frame. Cry felt a bittersweet happiness roll through him. He's caused Marzia and Pewdie to split up, but at the same time, he had achieved his greatest wish: to be with the man he loved so dearly.

* * *

A few days later, after everyone had heard that Cry was okay, and was going to live, and the doctors and nurses got him back to full health, he was released. The first thing he did as a free man was give a huge hug, and deep, passionate kiss to his new love: Pewdiepie.


End file.
